Direct Care finds me. Of course she does. I had not bothered to hide. She returns one missing, gaunt-faced girl with a feeding tube to number 17.
Matthias’s car is parked in the driveway. He is standing on the porch. His face says he has been told what happened. His eyes say he does not understand.
I cannot face him. My throat is too tight. My stomach hurts. Bile and shame. I watch him take in the feeding tube plastered across my face. I do not step forward to kiss him; it would have gotten in the way.
Direct Care looks at both of us. Her expression is sad, not angry. She says she is going inside and that we can talk in Bedroom 5.
But I cannot be inside; there is no air inside. I ask if we can stay here. She hesitates, then agrees, saying,
Please do not step off the porch.
Silence until she closes the door. Matthias gestures to the wicker chairs. I sit down on the floor instead. He sits next to me and waits.
I have nothing to say. So he tries:
What happened?
Nothing happened. I let go.
You already know what happened.
Anna, please talk to me. Help me understand. Why?
Why did I hide food? Why did I stop eating? Why did I run away? I laugh bitterly at the ridiculous answer to those questions:
Because of the bagel and cream cheese.
Matthias looks at me like I am mad. He is probably right. I watch him, painfully, fumble with his words and with my distorted thoughts:
Do you mean … did they serve you too much? Was the meal too big?
Not any bigger than the day before. Nor any more calorific than the yogurt and granola, the oatmeal and nuts, the Frosties or Cheerios.
Matthias tries to translate my silence into something he can fix.
Was it the taste? I know you hate bagels and cream cheese—
I do not.
He is lost:
But you said—
I lied. I do not hate bagels and cream cheese. I love bagels and cream cheese. The texture and taste are so divine I could eat just that for days.
My voice is rising in tandem with my despair at Matthias’s growing confusion. How can he not feel it? How can he not understand? How can I explain my twisted brain?
Matthias, I could eat for days! I could eat for days and not stop! I was fine before I came here because I had forgotten the taste of bagels and cream cheese. And God! I worked so hard to forget, for years! I was so disciplined! I got so good! But today I remembered. All I worked for is gone!
I can hear myself. A foreign, hysterical, high-pitched voice.
I like cream cheese and bagels!
Shaking.
Matthias, what if I start eating them again and never stop?
In contrast, his voice is low, a stranger’s. He tries:
Anna, that’s not possible. Let’s look at this rationally—
I burst into tears.
I burst into tears as I finally realize that this is where this story ends: Anna, that’s not possible. I wish he were right, I want him to be right, but I cannot see it or believe him.
He tries to reason with me, shout, cry, fight the anorexia in my head. He cannot see or believe, either, that I will never be rid of it.
An hour goes by, of arguing and crying. We are both silent now, exhausted. I look at the boy I love, who loves me, more than I deserve. Who is so miserable loving me.
There is nothing left to say now, except,
Matthias, please leave.
He does not understand. I say it again:
Matthias, please leave.
He leans away from me and exhales deeply, looking out from the porch. Then, he turns his palms up and says:
Okay, Anna, whatever you say. We’ll finish this conversation tomorrow.
He gets to his feet.
No.
He stops.
No what?
Do not come back tomorrow.
The look on his face. A full minute in stone, then:
You can’t be serious, Anna.
I wish I were not, Matthias. But I can see it now, horribly in front of me: the future.
He will never leave. Not of his own accord. He loves me too much for that. He will come back night after night until I beat anorexia. But I will not beat it because I cannot. I cannot beat anorexia. I will not win and I love him too much to trap him in this future with me.
I say the horrible words a third time:
Matthias, please leave.
I cannot eat cream cheese on a bagel. Matthias, please leave.
I cannot eat the crêpes I make that you love. Matthias, please leave.
I cannot eat if I am sad or alone. I cannot eat in a restaurant. I cannot have the baby we wanted. Matthias, why are you still here?
Why are you still here?
I am not leaving, Anna. Where would I go if I did? There is no Matthias without Matthias and Anna.
But there is no Anna anymore.